Ideal Timing
by Devin Trinidad
Summary: Kunikida, a no nonsense teacher, looks out the window and sees something falling from the sky.
1. Chapter 1

Thirty-nine seconds...

Thirty-eight seconds…

Thirty-seven seconds…

The blond sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose as he tries to keep himself busy for the remainder of the school day. His students, usually boisterous and talkative, are busily scribbling over sheets of paper. Their pencils make quick scritch-scratch noises, a pleasurable experience of sight and sound that usually makes Kunikida smile in relief, but right now, he wants nothing more than to cut the examination short and leave.

Kunikida glances again at the clock that rests on the wall.

Five seconds…

Four seconds…

He drums his fingers on his desk, the sound sharp and erratic even to his ears.

Finally, Kunikida relaxes.

His jaws unclench, fingers fold neatly on top of his paperwork, and his posture straightens.

"Examination over. Place your tests onto my desk neatly," he stresses, "into one designated pile. You are all dismissed."

Zero seconds…

Reset?


	2. Chapter 2

Kunikida walks back home.

Exercise is necessary, especially since he leads a sedentary lifestyle. The stimulation of muscles not only improves his overall physical health, but also his mental health. His notes within his book have recorded several health benefits that would come about if he were to continue with his daily routine.

He also writes of other routines for himself.

In a year, he will get a better job at an elite school.

In five years, his profession will lead him to a wonderful woman. Courtship will ensue.

Six years after, he will be happily married with a child on the way.

Ideal. Perfect. There is no room for errors.

As Kunikida crosses the street, he hears a young man—a law student from the looks of it—talk of the recent kidnappings and reports of mafia activity.

Kunikida clenches his fist.


	3. Chapter 3

Kunikida is hurrying to finish the day.

His paperwork is neatly filed into three piles. Graded assignments, ungraded assignments, and new assignments that are prescribed by the school board. With meticulous handling, the blond has single handedly organized his paperwork into ascending alphabetical order while also taking note of the progress that most of his students are making.

Some, he notes with a disappointed look in his eyes, have given up. Others, he notes with a subdued sense of pride, have surprised him with near perfect marks.

Regardless of status, Kunikida finishes with the last assignment that must be checked with a gentle, but professional flourish. Once he has done so, he checks the clock and notices that he has finished exactly three minutes earlier than planned. Satisfied with the surprise opening in his schedule, Kunikida happens to glance out the window.

Something is falling from the sky.


	4. Chapter 4

It's not very prudent of Kunikida to ignore his usual route home and investigate the mysterious object, but here he stands. There is something calling to him, something primal. It is an instinct that cannot be repressed for it is only bolstered by his innate sense of curiosity. Damn it all, Kunikida thinks that he should not have been as curious, so willing to go out of his way just for something that could be gone by the time he arrives.

Despite his reservations, Kunikida finds himself staring in disbelief at this strange notebook on the ground.

Upon further observation, it's written in English, something that Kunikida hasn't specialized in, but he knows the gist of the title. It's called "Death Note".

Kunikida scoffs, thinks to throw the notebook away, and suddenly, he throws the notebook in a satchel he has for everyday use. There is just something...something Kunikida can't name as he hurries down to his apartment.

The minutes are ticking; seconds are already lost because of his small detour.

Once Kunikida shuts his door and locks it, the blond moves over to a table and places his newfound notebook onto the surface. The stark white font stands in stark contrast against the dark black cover. It's nothing unusual, any edgy teenager could have had the creativity and the originality to make a weird notebook. However, once Kunikida opens the book, he can see that there are rules.

And, after he manages to look up some of the English words, he can see that they're well written.

From previous experience when dealing with students, anyone could write in English. Well structured sentences aren't too hard; one could just use a verified translator. But, the major cause for concern is the rules. The rules are too well written, too well thought out. Any possible loophole Kunikida thinks of exploiting are already answered within the context of the rule itself or is answered in a neighboring paragraph.

Kunikida, being a math teacher, counts the rules.

There are at least sixty-six.

No student or child would ever go this far for a prank.

But, being the logical person he is, the blond merely scoffs and places the book back into his satchel. Perhaps tomorrow he'll inquire if anyone has lost this so-called "Death Note".

He swears that he does not feel disappointment or the overwhelming urge to grab a pen and experiment.


	5. Chapter 5

"Mr. Kunikida! The next exam is this upcoming Thursday, right?" Miyazawa Kenji asks brightly.

Without looking up from his work, Kunikida nods briskly.

"Er, are you all right, Mr. Kunikida? You shouldn't overwork yourself."

Kunikida tenses a little at his student's question, but he does look up momentarily from his work.

"Don't worry, Kenji," he soothes with a practiced air that has the boy relaxing immediately. "It's written in my notebook that I should tackle at least seventy five percent of my work at school so I won't be too overwhelmed at home."

Satisfied, the young boy bows his head in thanks and makes for the door.

As Kenji leaves, Kunikida feels his stern demeanor vanishing as he rests his special grading pen upon the front cover of one his binders as he thinks about the dark notebook he had recovered just yesterday. The notebook itself isn't the problem; it's the implications. There is just something alluring about the idea of writing someone's name down and then having that person...die.

If a person were to utilize the notebook, would they still feel like they're killing someone? Would it still be considered murder if one isn't there to witness the death?

Would one feel guilt?

Kunikida shakes his head at those thoughts. Why should he kill? Murder, save for in self-defense, should never be considered as an option.

But the idea remains.

And his thoughts continue to stew around in his brain.


	6. Chapter 6

"—thoughts on the newest—"

"—we have come across evidence—"

"—Port Mafia attacks have been increasing as of late. Police investigating—"

Kunikida sighs, disgusted with the day's events. There is a mindless thrumming at the back of his mind again; it has been increasing as of late. As he closes the lid of his laptop to silence the news that were live streaming on his favorite website, he begins to think more and more seriously about the pressing issue.

The damn book is a hoax, he thinks. How could it not be? There is nothing to suggest that there is anything more than stylized, printed words. Words that just happened to bear a phrase that practically encourages murder.

It is disturbingly hilarious and macabre.

Ideally, he should have thrown the notebook away—there is no way he is going to hunt down a wayward teenager and return this disgusting notebook.

In fact, he shouldn't have been thinking about the ethics of putting someone's name in the notebook—even if it is mere curiosity and rhetoric.

But here he is.

Thinking about it.


	7. Chapter 7

"Kunikida," a shuffle of papers and the sound of a pen clicking closed as the woman adjusts to the sudden intrusion. "Aren't you at work? I thought that you reserved social calls in the middle of the afternoon at the earliest."

Yosano's tone is wry, if a bit worried.

Kunikida doesn't blame her.

He usually sticks with calling his friends every other week. The fact that he has deviated from the norm by calling without the appropriate time period in between and the time of day was far from ideal…

Yes, Kunikida doesn't blame her worrying tone one bit.

"I actually…" The blond falters, unsure of what to say. Outside of his colleagues from the school, Kunikida can't really lay claim to having good friendships. He had met Yosano and her intriguing detective friend, Ranpo, only a year or two ago. They were spearheading some sort of detective agency and it was clearly going up the ranks if neighborhood rumors were anything to go by.

They had invited Kunikida to join upon noticing his ideals and work ethic.

Sadly, he had declined.

"Yes, Kunikida? I'm in a bit of a situation—" The sound of someone whining (possibly Ranpo) can be heard in the background. The pitch and tone of aforementioned whine has Kunikida jerking his phone away from his ear. A muffled "Ranpo!" is heard from Yosano before she returns to the line.

"Better make it quick, Kunikida," she mumbles. "Ranpo is throwing a tantrum right now and its frightening one of our clients."

Kunikida ruefully smiles before stating, "It's more of a philosophical question. Perhaps we can discuss it over a meal, perhaps?"

Kunikida can practically see Yosano's grin.

"Oh my, are you asking me out on a date?"

"You already know of my ideals, Yosano. I only wish to debate with some idea that's been stewing in my brain for a while now."

"Shall I bring Ranpo? It sounds serious."

"If you wish."


	8. Chapter 8

The unlikely trio dine together at a nearby eatery that just so happens to be the midpoint between Kunikida's school and the Armed Detective Agency. The food isn't spectacular, but it is, in Ranpo's words, "serviceable, if a bit lacking in flair". Regardless, it whets their appetite and after a few minutes of banter and a game of "catch up" (Ranpo and Yosano are trying to get some dirt on some Port Mafia Boss called Mori Ougai), Kunikida directs his companions' attention to the true reason he sought them out.

"Bah! Philosophy!" Ranpo snorts as he stuffs a bit of cake and icing into his mouth. "Who cares? Every philosophical idea is inherently good, bad, and so insufferably generic, that it both describes and defies all human logic."

Yosano, on the other hand, is a bit more subdued.

"I was never a fan of the metaphorical." She casts a shrewd eye on the ever present notebook entitled the "Ideal". "Or ideal. But I must say, I never thought to take you seriously earlier. What of it?"

"Well, I was wondering. Perhaps, let's say you were a given a weapon that could kill anyone you wished within seconds by just...one simple action and you don't have to witness it. Would you use it?"

Ranpo scratches his head and gazed at Kunikida. For once, his eyes are staring straight in Kunikida's. Never before has the blond ever seen such a brilliant shade of green.

"Do you really want to follow that train of thought?"

Kunikida is ashamed to admit that, yes, he would like to.

But before Kunikida has a chance to fully provide an answer, Yosano is already hot on his heels.

With a little more enthusiasm than is necessary, Yosano says, "Why not? Who is to say that the weapon is actually a weapon? If you were to predetermine a death, is it really murder?"

"It's not predetermination, you're actively causing the death of a human." Kunikida grouses. He looks to Ranpo to interfere, but the genius detective only wipes the lenses of his spectacles.

"But how would you know what's predetermined and what's not? What if this entire conversation was orchestrated from the very start? Perhaps we're even reading a script from some long forgotten play —"

"If that's the case," Ranpo interrupts, "then we're in a poorly written story."

"We're getting off track." The blond man steeples his hands and looks at his friends. His only friends, if he were being honest. "I guess the main root of the argument is this: if you could kill without being caught, would you do it?"

Yosano shrugs.

"If I wasn't bound to the Hippocratic Oath, why not?" She looks as if she were about to say something else, but thinks better of it. Knowing that he would not get a better answer from the doctor, Kunikida turns to the detective.

"Kill without being present. Kill without remorse—for, if you don't see it happen, did it actually occur? You're asking the wrong question, Kunikida. You should be asking, would you feel guilty if you murdered someone in such a way?"

"I'm not saying I would happily go—"

"And I'm not saying you will," Ranpo emphasizes with a roll of his brilliant green eyes. "I'm just following your train of thought."

Kunikida suddenly can't breathe.

"And where do you think it will lead?"

Before either Ranpo and Yosano can interject, the waiter comes by with the check. Matter forgotten, both of his friends start haggling over the price.

Slightly bemused, slightly hollow, Kunikida leans back in his seat and thinks.


	9. Chapter 9

It happens when Kunikida is walking back from school. After a particularly hard day, Kunikida feels like holing himself up in his apartment and collapsing. Some of his students had thought it was a good idea to annoy him to no end—why, Kunikida didn't know—and that just about killed his patience for the rest of the day.

As he begins to cross the intersection, he feels a presence that hovers close to his back. The action, by all rights, is not unusual. The lingering presence, even after Kunikida quickened his pace, is. As if wanting to exacerbate him, the presence seems to hover even more insistently, like a star student wanting the teacher's attention.

After nearly three minutes of incessant shadowing, Kunikida knows that it is time to take back his personal space and give a stern talking to whomever thought it was a good idea to hover about him like a ghost.

He whirls around, hoping to smack the perpetrator's face with his ponytail and say, "Has anyone ever told you that it's rude to follow people to closely?"

"Ah, so it's okay to follow people without being too close?" A catlike smirk. "Noted."

Kunikida, a little perturbed at that response, stiffly nods in dismissal and faces forward resolutely. His already long strides, lengthen as if to escape the presence. There is no way he is going to get his evening ruined just because of one inconsiderate person.

Kunikida continues walking forward, but then he notes that the hairs on the back of his head are still on end.

He is still being followed.

This time, when he whirls around, he makes a grab for the perpetrator.

It's only when his hands grab empty air and a few strangers eye him curiously that Kunikida realizes something crucial.

The presence is not human.


	10. Chapter 10

"I am not insane. I am not insane." Kunikida chants to himself. He is currently chopping vegetables in order to stave off the creeping feeling that he is still being watched—which he is. "I am not insane."

"Hate to break it to you, Doppo," the being in the apartment says, "but that's not how insanity works."

"Not insane. Not insane. Not insane." With each "insane", the blond savagely chops a carrot to punctuate his statement. Years ago, when his mental state was far too obsessive compulsive to function in everyday society, he had turned to the rhythmic motions and sounds of ravaging vegetables into uniform fragments. His favorite vegetable is the carrot due to the sheer determination and focus he has to utilize whenever he chops up this particular brand of foodstuff.

"Aww...come on Doppo! I know I'm kind of a prick and all that, so many humans have told me that in the past, but do you really have to act so pissy? I feel like you're going to roast me alive."

Kunikida pauses in his chopping. He only stops because he cannot bear to listen to that stupid voice talking in his ear. It is so...unsettling and not ideal.

And he is out of carrots to chop.

There goes his budgetary projections for produce he had created earlier that month.

He turns around and finds himself facing a man who, for all intents and purposes, looked like a normal human. However, upon closer inspection, the more you looked at the man, the more Kunikida could see that he was otherworldly. His eyes glitter like an onyx gem. His hair is black as night, as wispy and curly as cobwebs. The strange man is dressed in a dark black suit, a trench coat drapes over his shoulders as if emulating a cape. But the worst part are the bandages.

Bandages cover the man's limbs. They cover his right eye, travel around his neck, around his arms. If Kunikida could hazard a guess, he would say that the bandages probably cover every inch of his skin except for his hands, feet, and face.

Just what are the wrappings hiding?

Regardless, Kunikida has his pride and he does not bow down to such a man...being...thing…

"Listen, I don't know who you—"

"Just call me Dazai."

"—are, why you're here—"

"To help you with the Death Note."

"—or what you are! So you better—"

"Shinigami."

"—answer—" The blonde pauses in the middle of his tirade, hazel eyes blinking in disbelief. "You're a—?"

Dazai's eyes twinkle with mischief as he stares Kunikida deep into his eyes.

"Indeed I am."

Kunikida's back straightens, his jaw clenches.

"Are you going to kill me then?"

"Kill...you?" The man's laughter chills Kunikida to the bones, so much so that he had felt his knife slip through his fingers and clatter to the floor. "No, I intend to have you kill for me."


	11. Chapter 11

Kunikida's mouth gapes open.

When he is younger, his parents would tell him about the lore of his people. They tell him of the yuki-onna in the mountains, to wary of the onis hidden in the forests. And sometimes, when the night is long and the skies are laden with pitch, his parents whispered about the Shinigami.

Kunikida doesn't take much stock in old wives' tales, but he remembers that they reap the souls of humans.

The blond audibly swallows and tries to step back.

But the mischief and utter inhumanity inside the Shinigami's eyes root him to the spot.

What little bravado Kunikida had, is now gone.

"Could you…" He falters, no longer keen on talking. Kunikida licks his lips and tries again. "Could you repeat that?"

The brunet clicks his tongue, bemused by the man's cowardice.

"You haven't written a single name, Doppo." The Shinigami takes a threatening step in Kunikida's direction.

"I wonder why."

Kunikida bolts around the Shinigami and heads out the door.


	12. Chapter 12

Yosano stares dumbly at her dining room table.

She's in her apartment that's only a few minutes walk from the Agency. While it was customary for Ranpo to follow her home like a helpless puppy, less can be said for her other visitor.

Kunikida barges in her apartment mere minutes ago and Yosano can already tell that he has had a trying evening.

His face, normally stoic and unsmiling, is now flushed with a thin sheen of sweat, his eyes are wild and terrified. Like any other inhabitant of Yokohama, her thoughts immediately went to the obvious conclusion that perhaps the Port Mafia or some other illicit organization had terrorized her friend. However, those thoughts are dashed away when Ranpo informs her in no uncertain terms that it had nothing to do with that.

Upon questioning—discreet, of course—Ranpo merely shrugs and says, "It's far more likely that this is more of a personal issue rather than an external force. If you can see, his clothes are comfortable daywear instead of his customary outfit. Also, his martial arts training would have been more sufficient to throw off his attackers."

"Even executives?"

Ranpo has no answer, but he turns to their blond friend.

"So…. care to share with the rest of the class?"

Ranpo's tone, while light with jesting, does little to betray his tensed shoulders and worrying look in his eyes. Yosano is shocked to see that Ranpo is wearing his glasses, a true sign that the detective is trying to deduce what might have happened to Kunikida.

At once, there is a rush of embarrassment and fear as Kunikida finally processes what he has done.

He had been followed by a mysterious entity, which he later found out to be a Shinigami. He had then provoked aforementioned Shinigami and left his apartment with that creature inside. What should he say? Could he even say anything? What happens if the Shinigami were to track him here and threaten his friends?

"I just…" Kunikida's voice trails off. Even when he was a young child, he had found it hard to lie to someone. After all, the blond always pictured his ideals to be truthful and transparent. Utilizing underhanded manners and subterfuge went against his core personality traits.

How could he lie against those he trusted?

Yosano sighs before placing a bowl of food in front Kunikida. Unlike Ranpo, who has been merely analytical and frankly, full of himself, Yosano merely observes Kunikida's behavior and instantly knows that he doesn't want to talk. What she can do now is offer comfort. She might not be the greatest at bedside manners, but she knows how to simultaneously shut Ranpo up and bring some peace to Kunikida.

"You have every right to ignore Ranpo. He's not even on duty, but he's still trying to solve mysteries." Yosano rolls her eyes while Ranpo splutters in the background, already adopting his childish persona. "If you feel uncomfortable telling us, that's fine. You can, however, compliment me on how well I can cook."

Kunikida smiles weakly.


	13. Chapter 13

Ranpo walks out Yosano's apartment with a pout on his face and a resolute steadiness in his step. It doesn't take Ranpo's natural deductive ability to see that his good friend, Kunikida, had something...troublesome happen to him. Whether it is some threat that Ranpo has come across before or something that he has yet to face, he isn't quite sure. The one thing he is certain of is that Kunikida was rattled to the point where he had politely declined Yosano's bowl of soup and wandered out the door like a stray dog.

The prim, proper, ideal Kunikida would have thanked Yosano for her hospitality by verbally and physically thanking her via eating her culinary work. As it were, both Ranpo and Yosano were worried and disappointed that Kunikida hadn't deigned to talk about his problems. It was also a topic in their conversation they had after Kunikida left.

"Maybe his job has been stressing him out? Kids these days aren't disciplined enough." Yosano tries to reason.

Ranpo tries his best not to snort out loud—Fukuzawa has been trying to teach him humility, whatever that was—but despite his best efforts, it still slips out. He lets a slow and easy smile grace his lips as he leans back in Yosano's chair—adequate, functional, with just a hint of a modern touch—and shakes his head.

"No. Something external. Something, that for Kunikida, wouldn't be considered ideal. Perhaps it's not a person—" He takes a lick from a lollipop he had snuck away from Yosano's 'private' stash. "—maybe it's a conundrum. A problem of sorts."

"You think he might have...had contact with—"

Ranpo waves his hand in irritation.

"No. Far from that. Kunikida serves no purpose or poses a threat to the Port Mafia. It could be something new."

Yosano hums in affirmation before nodding at the clock that hung on her wall.

"He should be home now...you think we should call him? To make sure that he's all right?"

Ranpo shakes his head.

"He'll be fine." Ranpo pauses and adds in an afterthought, "He looked like he was contemplating something as he left. As if he were dead set on setting something straight."

Ranpo frowns. He's concerned, but he doesn't want to think anymore.

"Meh, he'll be fine!"


	14. Chapter 14

Paper. Pen. Clock.

The perfect tools to grade a paper within designated time limits.

It is also a good way to conduct a science experiment.

Back when Kunikida was still a student, he was not only praised for his mathematical prowess, but also his scientific endeavors. His experiments were well thought out and planned to the letter. His documentation of his experiments were written with the thoroughness of a drill sergeant training new recruits. If lab partners were allowed, he was long sought after.

Today, however, he will be conducting this experiment solo.

"Doppo!" A voice sang out merrily. "My goodness! You've kept poor little old me waiting."

Kunikida feels his jaw clench as he tries to steady the nervousness in his gut; the random twitches of his pale, knobby fingers make him even more uncomfortable. What was worse, though, was that this monster was using his personal name. A nasty retort is building up in his throat, but it dies before Kunikida could clearly voice it.

Kunikida does not want to die before his time, thank you very much.

"Silent treatment?" There's a smug little smile of satisfaction on that monster's face, Kunikida knows it. Whatever, he doesn't want to pay him anymore mind.

The math teacher fingers the paper that rests within the Death Note's sturdy cover. The feeling is simultaneously both familiar and foreboding. With a shock, Kunikida wonders if there were no rules within the notebook, if this were just any other book that someone just happened to drop, would he have considered using it as one of his journals? Probably not; black isn't his color and the pages don't have that crispness that he desires. Regardless, he shakes his head free from those thoughts.

Kunikida heaves another sigh and opens the notebook to a blank page—a furrow in his brow.

"So...I just take a name, anyone who is still alive and I can kill them?" Kunikida whispers, more to himself than to his surprise visitor.

However, Dazai swoops in like he has all the invitation in the world.

He floats behind Kunikida and whispers slyly in his ear—careful to draw a few strands of hair away from the blond's right cheek to give the right effect.

"You're the one with the world's most subtle weapon—you tell me. I never read the rules, to be honest. It's such a hassle."

Kunikida shivers from the unwanted contact, but he offers no other display of emotion.

Instead, he uncaps his pen and sets to work.

Inwardly, the Shinigami laughs.


	15. Chapter 15

Thirty six seconds…

Thirty five seconds…

Thirty four—

Nakajima Atsushi is nearly late for a job that he had only been called in earlier that morning. In one of the lesser known schools in the region, one of the math teachers had fallen ill. Of course, being a recently graduated teacher still looking for a permanent job, he had jumped at the opportunity. This was going to be exciting! Students younger than he was, a new environment, and expectations that he would be sure to meet.

Even though the job was only for a few days at most, Atsushi was prepared to give it his all.

As he stares straight into his—his!—classroom's door, he sees all of his students idly chatting and horsing around. It'll take some time to gain their trust, but it will be all worth it.

Atsushi straightens the satchel that he hangs over one of his shoulders, breathes in a deep sigh, and walks through the door with a bright smile on his face.

"Hello everyone, I'm Nakajima Atsushi!" Atsushi manages not to stammer. "Today, I will be substituting for Mr. Kunikida. Please, behave well in this class!"

Elsewhere, Kunikida curls into himself, his thoughts a million miles away from his duties.


	16. Chapter 16

Dazai looks down at the blond with a look bordering on concern and amusement.

Honestly, he knew that Kunikida was an idealistic human, most were, but this was just too much. If Dazai didn't want to keep the math teacher's sanity intact, he would have taken much pleasure in breaking his very view on humans. The man needed a reality check—there was more to life than mere 'ideals.'

Dazai should know.

He practically caused the death of a man who lived for an ideal that proved fruitless.

However, that is a story for another time.

Now, Dazai is merely looking down at his human charge, wondering what he should do now. Dazai will admit—quite readily, in fact—that he liked that look of determination on the blond's face as he wrote down that wretched man's name. It is a look that spurs on Dazai's nonexistent heart. The expression is something a hero would wear in those stupid shounen anime some teenagers liked watching.

Dazai is completely disgusted and bemused by this blatant display of human emotion.

He was even more pleased by his decision to pick this human when he saw Kunikida's face fell.

Such beauty! Such anger! Such brutality!

It had taken all of Dazai's willpower to not burst out laughing as Kunikida fell over his desk in a guilty rage. Some pens—backups, spares, and the like—fell on the ground. The clattering was merely a prelude to Kunikida's personal symphony of cries and bitter tears.

Is this humanity?

No...is this what it feels like to be human?

Dazai feels like he should know, feels like he knows the answer, and in truth, he does.

But seeing Kunikida break free from his stern, holier-than-thou kind of attitude that he usually employed, it was like watching the birth of a being.

And what is it that nature does to its young?

That's right, nature take care of it. Nature nurtures the birth of new life.

And that's what Dazai will do.

He'll take care of this poor little sap and possibly get some more entertainment from this.


	17. Chapter 17

Nakahara Chuuya gazes down at the casket, a dark look in his eyes. Inside the coffin, Mori Ougai rests like he is taking an afternoon nap—how unlikely.

The death itself isn't too much of a surprise. The man was putting too much on his shoulders—the stress was bound to get to him eventually. But it is the timing of his death...that alone sets alarm bells off in his head.

"Shouldn't you be in mourning?"

Chuuya sighs at Kouyou's lilting voice.

"You know very well that while I do respect the Boss, I'm not exactly in the celebratory mood."

"Oh, really? Even if you are next in line to lead the Port Mafia?"

"No," Chuuya mumbles. "There's something wrong here and I intend to find out what."

Both the Mafia Executives, war hardened and cynical, stay for the rest of the funeral. Inside, Chuuya's insides roil in guilt and anticipation.

Plans for retribution brew within him should he find the perpetrator for this travesty.

But for now, he mourns.


	18. Chapter 18

"Doppo, you're boring me! Only one death and you're already suicidal." Dazai huffs as he flips through several websites at random on Kunikida's laptop. "I mean, didn't you do a good thing by killing this guy?"

Despite Kunikida's attempts to throttle the Shinigami, the blond manages to hit air every single time. Seeing the brunet casually handle everyday objects—with the occasional apple in hand—irritates Kunikida. Even though Kunikida is angry, in denial, and still in fear of this monstrous entity...he doesn't have it within himself to hate this creature fully. Dazai had, in his own way, taken care of him when he had done nothing more than sulk at his own stupidity.

Still, a part of Kunikida wants to end all of this. Maybe go to prison. Maybe kill himself via the Death Note.

What does it matter? He betrayed his ideals for the sake of some monster's silly fascination with humans.

What was up with that anyway?

"That's not the point!" Kunikida yells. He visibly pales as he stared at his apartment walls, all too aware that the walls are too thin. "And keep it down, people could be listening."

"I already told you, I can't be seen or heard unless someone touches the Death Note." Dazai thinks for a second. "Which is too bad. Only one person is beholden to my beauty and it happens to be a guy that doesn't appreciate the gift I've given him."

Kunikida growls before snatching the laptop away.

"Look, this might be all some game to you, but I just killed Yokohama's most dangerous criminal. There are bound to be repercussions."

Dazai rolls his eyes.

"There's no evidence other than a sudden heart attack. Relax, it's not like you knew the guy personally."

"But I killed a man."

Dazai shrugs, already bored with his human plaything.

"So have I, but you don't see me crying aimlessly over this type of thing."

At that moment, when hearing the callousness in Dazai's voice, Kunikida marches over to the supernatural entity and makes a grab for the brunet's front. However, like any other time, Kunikida's hands only pass through harmlessly. Still, that doesn't dampen his ire. In fact, one could even say that he grew even angrier when he saw that his efforts were useless.

"You might be a Shinigami, but I am a human being. I am a man of ideals. Murder is not something to be taken lightly. Life is meant to be treasured; the taking of a human life is conceivably one of the worst crimes to be ever undertaken. How could you be so calm and callous? How can you look so human, yet act so monstrous?" The blond's eyes flow with tears. His knees buckle underneath him, the look of a defeated man completely weighing down his features.

A small movement from Dazai alerts Kunikida that he is approaching, but the blond refuses to look back at him.

"You're right," Dazai murmurs, more to himself than to the blond, "I don't understand."

There's a smile of sadness on Dazai's face, but Kunikida doesn't see that.


	19. Chapter 19

_Dazai stares almost unseeingly into the viewing portals that lead to the human world._

 _Unlike his dull brethren in the Shinigami Realm, Dazai is more than a little curious about the world below: the world of those weak, pathetic creatures with too short lifespans. Usually, Dazai is more of the slothful sort, but on days where the gambling gets too bothersome, the noise of his brethren's chattering too noisy, he just wants to be left alone._

 _And thus, he finds one of the viewing portals._

 _At first, the Shinigami aimlessly looks at different humans. Some of them are fairly interesting; others are so disgustingly boring and trivial that they have Dazai in fits of uncontrollable laughter._

 _Who cares about politics? Who cares about the state of the economy? Wars? Disease? Hunger? Why did humans care so much and so little for others? There are so many controversies; so many different paradoxes littering the human race. Dazai despairs of ever truly understanding what it means to be human._

 _And then, Dazai finds him._

 _Oda Sakunosuke is a strange human at best, ridiculously impractical at worst. Back when he was a teenager, he had been a professional hitman—a profession that this human had been more than proficient. Even Dazai is impressed by the kill streak on this guy. Dazai spends a few days watching Osamu Sakunosuke, but when he was just about to quit and start looking at some other human, Sakunosuke finds someone equally as interesting._

 _The strange man introduces the hitman to a life that is free from the killing. He talks of writing novels, of living by the sea and writing for the sake of writing. These words are meaningless, dreams that are forgotten, but Sakunosuke wants to pursue this old man's words. Soon, he joins the Port Mafia and resolves that he would never again take another human life._

 _Dazai's interest expands exponentially. For years, Dazai sits next to that viewing portal, his gaze never leaving the young man with the honor of a samurai. All is well._

 _And yet, nothing is._

 _Being a Shinigami, Dazai knows from the start that Sakunosuke's life would end much shorter than most humans. At first, Dazai is disappointed. He knew that his temporary entertainment would be short. Now that Dazai is seeing a man who_ _willingly gave up killing and took in the orphans from an operation, there is just something...growing. Blossoming._

 _Something stirs inside Dazai's brain that both hurts and warms himself deep inside._

 _Dazai doesn't know what it is._

 _All he knows is that the idea of Sakunosuke's dying brings too much pain to his nonexistent heart._

 _And so, Dazai brings fate into his own hands._

 _He takes his only Death Note, a dark black notebook, into the human world. He flies with a grace and elegance that would have stunned anyone who could have had the ability to see him. However, one can not deny that he also flies with an urgency that was quite the opposite of Dazai's usual slothful behavior._

 _He drops the Death Note onto Sakunosuke's lap, careful to stay away from the human's vision until the young man gets himself acquainted with the notebook._

 _Dazai could not have found a better human._

 _Sakunosuke takes the revelation that Shinigami were in fact real quite well. In fact, if Dazai remembers correctly, Sakunosuke even allowed him to greet him as, "Odasaku"._

 _It is the start of a beautiful friendship_.


	20. Chapter 20

After a few days of guilt stagnating within his mind, Kunikida wakes up early in the morning and heads over to school.

He goes over the previous lessons as an overview, evades the questions concerning his private life, and manages to get his students back on track with his schedule that he had written in his notebook so long ago. For once, Kunikida feels normal. And yet…

There is an air of uneasy silence. The students probably aren't highly aware, but there is an undercurrent of energy that thrums through the halls of the school, echoes throughout the empty alleyways in the city. Even though it is serene and peaceful, there is something so muggy and dreadful in the air that Kunikida does't feel his mood shift.

Hurriedly, Kunikida avoids the back alleyways of reclusive corners and makes his way back into his apartment.

Not for the first time, he wonders, did he really do the right thing?


	21. Chapter 21

"It's a well known fact that any and all previous bosses of the Port Mafia have been killed via assassination. Even though the Boss had been getting older, he kept his health at an optimum level. The fact that he died of a heart attack even though he had suffered no health complications has me worried."

"Hmm, I guess I could perform an autopsy for my old mentor, but—"

"There's nothing interesting about this case. I'm bored." Ranpo yawns.

"Ranpo, Mr. Nakahara over here has graciously decided to let us go if we cooperate. I think we should at least lend our services. It doesn't mean that we'll come up with anything conclusive," Yosano adds quickly.

Chuuya nods solemnly.

"Of course. I just want to know that my inheritance wasn't something that was predetermined by an enemy. The Port Mafia is already vulnerable because of the power vacuum."

Ranpo's eyes twinkle as he surevys the younger man.

"Ah, are you getting cold feet about your new position as the new Boss?"

"Ranpo!" Yosano chastises.

Chuuya growls low under his breath, but doesn't offer a negative answer.

"Regardless, I want justice to be served as it should. The Port Mafia will lend its services to you. Consider it a grace period before we start attacking your Agency again."

Yosano nods while Ranpo grimly stares the ginger down.

"Fine!" The dark haired brunet breathes out with ill attended boredom. "Just let me get my glasses."


	22. Chapter 22

Kunikida walks into his apartment, fully expecting that Dazai will leave him alone, but instead, he is greeted with Dazai—

"Are you hanging yourself from one of the support beams?" His tone is clipped, curt and cold, but at the same time, he is grossly fascinated by the sight of the creature trying to do...well, just that.

"I'm trying to see if I can kill myself since I'm in the realm of humans."

Against his will, Kunikida finds himself inquiring, "And how is that working out for you?"

"Interestingly enough, I'm feeling the sensation of asphyxiation, but it's not enough to die. Which is unfortunate because I really wanted to surprise you."

"Color me surprised," Kunikida mutters more to himself than to the brunet. The blond drops his belongings onto the table and huddles onto a chair, already too drained for anymore interaction. Unfortunately, the Shinigami takes that as the time to float from the ceiling and onto Kunikida's lap.

Actually, it wasn't more of a float, but more of a stone dropping from a height that was far greater than Kunikida's ceiling. It's surprising; you would think that an imaginary, supernatural entity would weigh nothing, but he's so _heavy_!

"What do you want?"

"I want you to get rid of the rest of the highest ranking members of the Port Mafia so that there will be nothing left than aimless underlings and a power vacuum so big that it becomes a bottomless black hole."

Kunikida sighs and pushes the Shinigami unceremoniously onto the floor. (Surpassingly, Dazai lets him push him off).

"What.".


	23. Chapter 23

Yosano removes her gloves and steps away from the body, a look of boredom on her features.

"That's that. I can confirm that there is absolutely nothing wrong with Mori other than a cardiac arrest. He's the textbook definition of a healthy middle aged Japanese male. He may have suffered from stress due to illicit activities, but he's pretty spry overall." She turns to her companion who lazily sits on a nearby counter and eats potato chips.

"Well, if you say it's nothing more than a cardiac arrest, then I have no reason to doubt you."

Yosano walks closer to the famed detective, towering over his form with her red heels and formidable aura. A scowl decorates her face, but Ranpo already knows that she isn't going to hurt him—no matter how awful he can get when he feels that an investigation is beneath him.

"Ranpo, we literally have the Port Mafia ready to bare its teeth at any hint of a threat. Why are you just lazing about?"

Ranpo spoke in between mouthfuls of potato chip, saying, "The only one ready to bare his teeth is one Mr. Nakahara Chuuya. If you've noticed, the rest of the members have been acting quite brazenly—as if they don't have a care in the world. They're not vulnerable; they're stronger than ever."

"What if it's all a pretence? What if there's something bigger than the Port Mafia?"

"You mean the Special Abilities Department headed by the illustrious Chief Taneda?"

Yosano snatches the bag of chips away from her friend.

"You know what I mean. It's just...it's worrying that Mori just happened to die of a heart attack when he should have theoretically died at a much later date. Aren't you a little curious?"

"Of course I am! I just don't see the point in pursuing the case when all the evidence leads to nothing. I'm interested in solving cases, not running into dead ends."


	24. Chapter 24

Kunikida stares at his computer, the news flash with stories that range from the trivial to the downright worrying. Right now, there were some reports of Port Mafia members throwing a few more traitors into one of Yokohama's rivers. It is simultaneously mundane and horrifying to know that absolutely nothing changes even when he cuts off the head of the illegal organization.

"Have you thought about what I said? You have to admit that there's nothing but benefits if you kill all the executives."

"No, no more of this. Even if I were to wipe out the entirety of the Port Mafia, another illegal group will rise up and take its place. There's already a scramble for a new head—I can feel the unrest in the streets. Not only that, but I have to ask—" Kunikida pauses and scrutinizes the eldritch mockery of a human being. "—why do you want to get rid of the Port Mafia so much? What do you have to gain from a few human deaths? And most importantly, why can't you do it yourself?"

Dazai chuckles.

"I could care less about your questions. What really should bother you is if you don't do as I say."

Kunikida's breath catches in his throat as Dazai's eyes darkens with bloodlust.

"I'll let you in on a little secret...you're just one human out of many..."

Dazai doesn't speak anymore.

He doesn't have to.

Kunikida reads the message loud and clear: _if Dazai wanted, he could kill Kunikida anytime he wants and get some other human to do his dirty work._


	25. Chapter 25

Kunikida gulps, unsure of how to respond to the new turn of events. A part of him believes, wrongly so, that he might be one of those supposed special humans that the Shinigami had taken a liking to. However, it seems, upon the declaration of Dazai's true plans, that wasn't the case. Far from it, actually. It seems that Kunikida is some inconsequential instrument in whatever nefarious plot Dazai is scheming.

But why? Why him?

What was stopping Dazai from taking his own notebook and killing—

That's it, Kunikida nearly breathes out loud. He's careful to keep his heart beating steadily as a bass drum. Because of Dazai's threat, the Shinigami has taken care to monitor the blond's every move. Kunikida isn't sure if the brunet possessed supernatural hearing, but he would rather not find out the hard way.

Regardless, if the reason why Dazai is powerless now is because Kunikida himself had the only notebook Dazai had…then, would that make him the actual ruler of the notebook?

That would be too easy…considering…

Kunikida squares his shoulders, his cowardice now a thing of the past.

He wants answers and Dazai will give them to him.


	26. Chapter 26

"So what happens if I don't do what you ask? You're just going to kill me?" The blond sneers at the brunet, a look of pure anger nestling in his eyes. "Well, you know what? You may. You're free to write my name in your notebook…if you can."

Dazai's eyes, once cold and calculating, are alight with the flames of pure hatred and anger. The sheer passion and ferocity these emotions Dazai felt struck Kunikida to his core. There was just something so human—so familiar—about his expression that Kunikida felt himself stumbling back. Shinigami aren't supposed to look this human. Kunikida was expecting anger, yes, perhaps even death, but this was far from expected.

"Hmm, you're smart for a human." Dazai mumbles as he takes a seat on Kunikida's table. His eyes soften from his previous anger. Now, they are nothing more than dark voids with an unfamiliar sense of despair and nothingness within them. "There's hope for you yet."

Kunikida dares not breathe. Dares not whip out the Death Note and perhaps try to kill this monster.

That's what monsters are for, right? And he's obviously the hero, right?

"Then perhaps…perhaps instead of killing more humans, maybe I should aim higher, hmm?" At first, Kunikida's words are halting, but then he gains his momentum like a ball rolling down a hill. His words are brash and offensive, a tone that has Dazai chuckling and rolling about in midair.

The effects are startling.

"Are you threatening to kill me?"

"If that's what it takes to get you to leave me and those I cherish alone, then so be it." There. He said it.

His voice is one of conviction—a trait that Dazai immediately recognizes.

"Humans!" Dazai laughs with reckless abandon. "Humans are so interesting!" The brunet settles down before peering down at his human charge. "Try it, Kunikida Doppo. I've been trying to kill myself for so long…and you're so smart…perhaps you can finally kill me."


	27. Chapter 27

_Odasaku stares impassively down at the Death Note, but there's a furrow in his eyes._

" _You can kill people just by writing down their name?"_

" _Yup! Neat, right? I've tried blackmailing other humans into writing my name down, but it just doesn't seem to work," Dazai sighs. He rests his head on the counter of the bar. Out of the kindness of his heart, his human companion had ordered him some speciality whiskey that had Dazai moaning from such heavenly bliss. "Suicide for humans is so easy! It's too bad that it's lost it's place as an art form."_

" _Hmm."_

" _What, you're not going to say anything?"_

" _You'll be offended and might kill me." Although phrased as a joke, there's still an undercurrent of a power balance within the relationship. After all, Dazai is still a Shinigami with a hidden agenda that Odasaku can only guess at._

" _Aww, come on! Tell me already!"_

" _I thank you for this gift, but I don't need to kill anyone."_

 _Dazai freezes, his dark brown eyes grow darker._

" _Sure, that's what you think. What about if you killed in personal defense? What about that?"_

 _Odasaku shook his head._

" _Even so. I have been a terrible person in the past, but I would like to change for the better. Even if my life were put in danger, I would rather die than kill again."_

 _On the outside, Dazai merely shrugs away his words as if they are nothing more than a curious behavior of a particular human. On the inside, however, Dazai is growing worried. With every day that passes, Odasaku's numbers grow smaller and smaller._

 _His children are killed._

 _Mimic is calling him out to play._

 _Adre Gide is cornering him to fight._

 _And it is all in behest of one Mori Ougai._

 _And then his numbers, falls down to zero._

 _Shinigami aren't supposed to save lives, they're supposed to take them. As Odasaku slumps against him, dying in Dazai's arms, the Shinigami feels his heart grow cold, his eyes brim with human like tears._

 _Maybe if Dazai had been less selfish, maybe if he had disobeyed the rules of the Shinigami King and his closest associates, maybe, maybe, maybe…_

 _Maybe if he didn't feel so discontented with his life in the Shinigami Realm._

 _Maybe if he didn't meet—no._

 _No._

 _No, he would never trade his friendship with Odasaku for the world._

 _In that case, he'll have to make do with revenge._


	28. Chapter 28

" _Your human charge has died." Ango's voice betrays no emotion. Like most Shinigami, he isn't curious about the human realm. The only time he ever shows the slightest hint of concern is when he needs to reap another human soul. Unlike most of their brethren, however, Ango also tires of the gambling and restlessness of doing nothing._

 _He still thinks ill of Dazai's ill timed plan of trying to avert Oda Sakunosuke's death by giving him agency of his fate by granting him the Death Note. The only Death Note that Dazai has on his person._

 _Ango thinks both Dazai and the human are stupid._

 _Dazai shouldn't have gotten too involved._

 _The human should have killed his tormentor when he had the chance. Perhaps, Dazai wouldn't be sulking so often now._

" _Your point, Ango? Why are you even here?" The suicidal Shinigami looks up from the ground. Dazai had been idly drawing circles in the sand, but the effect is nothing more than a slight disturbance—there is no real substance there._

 _Ango crouches next to his friend, a look of what could have passed as sympathy resting in his eyes._

" _I'm not one to encourage dabbling in the human world, but it's frankly disconcerting to see you so despondent," Ango starts. Having heard Ango wax on and on about trivial things, Dazai makes to leave, but his friend clasps his shoulder. "But, I've been watching the human realm and I think I might have seen a human who might serve as a—"_

" _Replacement?" Dazai sneers. "You can't replace humans."_

 _Ango frowns at the rude interjection, but pushes forward._

" _Well, this human has ideals that I think you can stand to learn from. He also has a grudge against the Port Mafia, against this Mori Ougai person." Ango's eyes twinkle in dark delight as he looks at Dazai, a look of wonder in his usually dead eyes._

" _That means…"_

" _That means you can circumvent the Shinigami King's orders if you drop your Death Note precisely where this human will be."_

" _Hmm...I guess I've been too hard on you, Ango." Dazai playfully shoves the bespectacled Shinigami away before he looks over to the portal._

" _His name is Kunikida Doppo, by the way. I think you'll like him_."


	29. Chapter 29

Kunikida writes in his personal notebook. He has been writing for over two hours straight. Instead of working on new exams and worksheets for his students to complete, there's a list of theories and grievances that Kunikida has been thinking about for the last few days he had the Death Note in his possession.

He writes of the ideas he has to destroy the notebook. He writes of the guilt that gnaws his stomach, like a hunger that has him starving for redemption—for some way to prove to himself that he is more than just a monster. The more he thinks about it, the more he wants to chuck the Death Note at Dazai and hope that the Shinigami dies upon impact.

But real life doesn't work that way.

Instead, Kunikida must try to emulate real life through his ideals. Therefore, he must make plans and follow them to the letter. He needs to be within a rigid set of guidelines so that he can function within society. For, without rules, there can be no—

"Those ideas are actually quite imaginative and creative. However, I must admit that in the end,the methods you propose will have no effect on the Death Note.."

Kunikida freezes, his hand curls around his pen tighter than before.

That is a voice he has not heard before.

It's low, a gentle murmur that would have calmed Kunikida if it were any other situation, but instead, it rankles him further.

Without turning from his notebook, the math teacher asks, "Who are you? What do you want?"

"I'd appreciate it if you looked me in the eyes rather than ignoring my presence."

"I'd appreciate it if you told me who you are and what you're doing in my apartment."

There's a loud sigh behind Kunikida.

"Very well. You may call me Ango. I just had the urge to...hasten things along, if you will."

"Are you…" Kunikida swallows bile down his throat. "Are you a Shinigami?"

"You're quicker than Dazai's last human, I'll give you that."

Kunikida turns around, but doesn't dare ask about 'Dazai's last human'. He wants nothing more than to rid his apartment—and preferably, his life—free from all supernatural creatures.

Instead, the blond chooses to study the Shinigami in front of him. He wears a dark brown suit. Unlike Dazai, who had enjoyed the artistry of bandages and dark clothing, Ango has nothing to distinguish him from lawyers or businessmen. He even dons a pair of spectacles for crying out loud!

But just like Dazai, there is something off about his eyes, his posture—the very masquerade that looks human is nothing more than a well made farce. Bile rises in Kunikida's throat as he tries to listen to what this Shinigami has to say.

"Hasten what?"

Ango's eyes shine brightly. The scene is eerily reminiscent to when Dazai's eyes would darken and cloud with darkness.

"Why, I want you to destroy the Death Note!"


	30. Chapter 30

The flames are hot, but Kunikida's hands are clammy and cold. Unbeknownst to his Shinigami minder, he had called in the day before.

The conversation that he had with Ango, that other Shinigami, had resulted in an uneasy alliance of sorts. While Kunikida still feels the urge to banish or exorcise all supernatural beings from his home, he feels that the strait laced Ango is...okay. He is neither too rude nor too creepy. He is quite unlike Dazai.

Upon asking Ango why he wanted the book burned, Kunikida found himself far more surprised that he actually deigned to give him an answer.

" _The Shinigami King requested that Dazai come back—Shinigami aren't exactly supposed to go down into the human world unless we choose to reap souls. He's already in trouble, one more infraction wouldn't hurt him."_

Kunikida didn't know how to feel about that. However, he knew that Dazai was a bit of a slacker to put it lightly, so he wasn't too surprised.

After he leaves his apartment, he walks a ways to an abandoned mansion that is overgrown with the local wildlife. Sometimes, people would report disturbances that were due to teenagers partying or doing drugs in those parts. However, in the mid morning light, there areonly the sounds of the wind passing through creaky shutters and the creaking melody of an old house settling into the earth. Sometimes, Kunikida comes to this particular mansion to think.

Today, he is going to burn a notebook.

He chooses a secluded area at the back of the mansion. It isn't well kept. It is just an area that was overgrown with weeds.

Once he starts burning the notebook, there is nothing left but to watch it get rendered to ashes. The process is easily the most enchanting and boring event he has ever witnessed. Kunikida hopes that he is able to see something interesting. As it were, the notebook burns like a notebook...that burns. There is absolutely nothing special about it.

Once the notebook is nothing more than ashes a few wayward pieces of paper, Kunikida stamps out the fire and walks out of the mansion.

The only hint that there is anything supernatural would be if Dazai was still waiting for him at the apartment.

Kunikida isn't sure if he wants to remember this experience or if he wants to see Dazai ever again.


	31. Chapter 31

**31.**

Dazai didn't need to ask how Kunikida's day went; it is written plain as day on the blond's face. With a sinking feeling, the brunet finds himself trudging towards his human charge, a variety of ideas swimming in his mind.

"Rough day, huh? You look like you tried to commit suicide, but failed."

Kunikida sighs.

"I burned it."

At once, Dazai feels as if the world's rotation has stopped momentarily—his life screeches to a halt. He couldn't have heard right. Kunikida probably meant something else, right? He didn't mean to say that-that-that—

And laughs laughs.

Dazai laughed because maybe his brethren are right. Leave the humans alone to their own devices. Leave them alone to their decaying societies, to their crumbling ideals that only leads to more self destruction. Humans are disgusting creatures who change, who die, who do nothing for others and everything for themselves.

"Humans are so interesting!" He breathes like a dying flame before sputtering out. He whisks himself out of the apartment, once more a terrifying creature of the night.


	32. Chapter 32

Ango gasps, a noise that he would have thought would have been reserved for those far younger than him. As it were, he has no idea that Dazai would come back in such a state. Ango walks forward, his spectacles magnifying the tragedy of his friend.

"Dazai," he murmurs. "You're back far too soon. Whatever happened to—"

Dazai wheezes in laughter.

It is a harsh sound that freezes Ango in his tracks.

"I'm going to kill Kunikida Doppo." Dazai rolls on the ground like a wraith out of Hell. "I'm going to kill him!"


	33. Chapter 33

The days pass and Kunikida finally feels like things are coming back to normal. He dismisses the events of the last few days like one would forget about an annoying fly. Mori Ougai is long gone, but the Port Mafia is still as strong as ever. Kunikida resolves that one day, they will receive their comeuppance.

For now, the blond blissfully grades paperwork and makes new examinations for his students. It's dull. It's practiced. It's ideal.

And in a stroke of bad luck, the tedium is broken once again.

"You're here." Kunikida's voice is hoarse, but resigned. He takes a seat on his chair, and stares at the Shinigami. There is no hostility, no fear. Kunikida has only been acting with the normality of a schoolteacher to bide his time.

"I am." Dazai agreed. He, too, is resigned instead of the deep anger that he has felt ever since Kunikida burned the Death Note.

"Are you finally here to kill me? Because I accept my fate. I'd rather die than murder another person."

Dazai nods, a grim look in his eyes. Within seconds, he retrieves a new Death Note. This one has been embossed with kanji instead of Roman letters—it's from Ango.

"You're awfully self sacrificing for a human," Dazai mutters. For some odd reason, he's stalling for time. Maybe he wants to draw out Kunikida's death—it's a desire that twists Dazai's stomach.

Odasaku wouldn't want him to act like this.

Kunikida nods.

"I like to live up to my ideals."

Ideals.

Was what Odasaku had been living an ideal? Suddenly, Dazai wants to ask—wants to talk more with the blond. He wants to start anew, perhaps find and reconnect with this human who is just as noble, just as kind as his Odasaku.

Would Odasaku approve of Kunikida?

Dazai's pen twirls lazily in Dazai's grip.

The seconds tick by.


	34. Chapter 34

Kunikida waits with bated breath.

When he was younger, he didn't take much effort into thinking how he would die. He just assumed he would do so when he was older.

Much older than he is right now.

It's a shame, Kunikida thinks, he would have liked to document how he should have his funeral, to whom his possessions would go… but the efforts, he hope, are probably not wasted.

After all, it's not ideal to think about one's death when one is too young and had barely enough time to live.

As time passes, Kunikida gradually grows even more tense.

Why was the damned Shinigami taking so long? Was it out of some cruel enjoyment—a sort of vengeance wrought upon him for refusing to execute the members of the Port Mafia?

Kunikida does not regret it.

"Kill me," Kunikida begs. Tears gather in his eyes, but he looks Dazai straight in the eyes. "It'll only take a second to write down my name. Only a second."

A mirthful chuckle erupts from Dazai's lips.

The irony is not lost on them.

Only a few days ago, Dazai was encouraging Kunikida to do the same.

Dazai's pen begins to write—the sound of scratching noises familiar to Kunikida's ears.

The blond waits. He feels at peace.

Perhaps this was an ideal way to die.


	35. Chapter 35

Thirty three seconds…

Thirty two seconds…

Thirty one seconds…

Kunikida begins counting once Dazai's pen stops scribbling. He is well accustomed to counting down the seconds, well accustomed to anticipating a new deadline. His lips curl.

Deadline.

That's what this was. Nothing to be afraid of.

But that's all Kunikida feels.

But still, he sits, ramrod and facing forward. He will face Death, never shall he bow, especially when defending his ideals.

Three seconds…

Two seconds…

One second…

Zero.

Reset?


	36. Chapter 36

Kunikida's eyes flutter open.

He's still alive.

How was he still—

"Disappointed?" Dazai's voice is harsh, but there's a fondness in his eyes that has Kunikida taken aback.

Kunikida, having been rendered speechless, can only shrug half heartedly in response. Just what was Dazai playing at now?

"I think I like you," Dazai announces in a half declaratory, half mocking manner. "So, I won't kill you today."

"Then what were you writing in your notebook?"

Dazai holds out the notebook, careful not to let ownership slip into Kunikida's care.

Inside, in messy kanji that is all angry strikes and bold strokes is one name.

 _Dazai Osamu._

"Your name?" Kunikida gasps.

Dazai grins playfully before spreading his wings and flying into the mid afternoon light.


	37. Chapter 37

Ranpo and Yosano are invited to the bar by one grief stricken Chuuya—or as grief stricken a Mafia Executive turned Mafia Boss can be. He's already on the road to getting drunk, a fact that has Ranpo snickering and Yosano rolling her eyes. It's all very professional, but the power vacuum within the Port Mafia had been taking its toll on the new leader.

"Whaddya think of this place?" Chuuya slurs.

The Bar Lupin is a place that is both discreet and off the radar for the authorities. Most illegal transactions have taken place here, and many more will occur in the future. The bartenders are practically honorary mafia members.

Ranpo wrinkles his nose.

"It could be a lot brighter...and I don't see anything that are to my tastes."

Chuuya shrugs, already downing half a bottle of wine.

"Why did you call us here, Mr. Nakahara?" Yosano questions warily. "I trust that my reports were more than satisfactory concerning the deceased."

"Oh, I am. Just wanted ta, ya know...thank you in person?" He ends his explanation in what appears to be a question before he points an accusatory finger at the young woman. "Call me Chuuya, dammit! We're all in equal standing here, no sense in formalities."

"Hmm," Yosano nods in assent.

Ranpo twiddles in his chair, already bored with just looking at the notably tasteful decor.

"Hey, Mr. Fancy Hat, is that really why you wanted us here? Just as an informal gathering?" His bright green eyes survey the drunkard. Even though he's unsteady on his feet, no one can deny that Nakahara Chuuya can still be deadly.

Chuuya wrinkles his nose at that nickname, but doesn't comment.

"It's been hard since Mimic happened to screw us all over...even managed ta off one of the underlings." The redhead narrows his eyes in order to remember. "Oda Saku-Saku…" He knocks back another glass of wine before continuing. "And a few other guys. 'Course, can't forget the Boss dyin' 'n leaven' me'n charge. It's been a long week."

Yosano studies the redhead once more and gently tugs away the wine. The man is childish enough to grab at the bottle once more, but Ranpo holds him back like a mother scolding a child.

At her signal, both Yosano and Ranpo lift the babbling redhead from the chair and out into the evening air.

The breeze is pleasant on Chuuya's face as he stares unblinkingly into the night sky. As he watches, he thinks he might have seen the shadow of something take flight from one of the apartments nearby. But as soon as the image gets processed in Chuuya's brain, it vanishes into the wisps of his leftover sanity.

Together, Ranpo and Yosano drag the Port Mafia Boss into a taxi and place him in the Agency's infirmary.

It's been a long week.


	38. Chapter 38

Dazai sits at a gravestone looking like a fallen angel.

The night is still young, the lights from the city are bright and colorful—a juxtaposing contrast to the dark thoughts that run through his mind.

There's a faint whisper of moving air and Ango gracefully lands right next to him. As Ango situates himself into a comfortable position, Dazai sighs and tries not to bark out an insult as he watches his friend polish his thin rimmed lenses with the tassels from his coat.

"I never took you one for mourning."

"I never took you for interfering with my life."

"We're not living beings; we have no lives."

Dazai chuckles at Ango's lame attempt to lighten the situation. Regardless, Ango has done his job well.

"Are you here to reprimand me? If so, I'll have to ask you to refrain; the old man already told me to stop messing with humans. He also told me to stay away from the viewing portals for the time being." Dazai grumbles, "Said something about curiosity being too abnormal for us Shinigami folk...old sport."

Ango shudders alongside Dazai; no one liked to listen to the Shinigami King's self entitled importance and long winded speeches.

"No, I'm here because I wonder...did Odasaku mean that much to you? He's a human."

Dazai stops himself from snarling at Ango. After all, the other Shinigami meant no harm.

"Because, Ango, he made me feel just that. Human."

Ango makes no further comment as they both lounge against the headstone and admire the dark sky above and the twinkling lights below.


	39. Chapter 39

Kunikida flinches as he hears Ranpo impatiently bang his silverware. For once, Kunikida has decided to forgo all matters of propriety, so he drags his friends over to his apartment for dinner. It is nothing fancy, nothing that merits two friends becoming really eager and salivating in anticipation at his invitation.

However, they jump up at his offer and here they are now.

All of them look faintly fatigued, as if that week's troubles were weighing them down in a way that deprived them of acting...normal.

"Geeze, Kunikida. I knew you would go ballistic if something looked out of place or not ideal, but this!" Yosano gestures to the spread of food that Kunikida has prepared.

In Kunikida's opinion it's nothing to be proud of, but even he admits that the aroma alone would send people to their knees in anticipation, presentation withstanding.

Ranpo, on the other hand, clamors for food. He claims that he had been working nonstop for the last few days all because of 'Mr. Fancy Hat'.

As they dig in, Kunikida can't help but enquire about one of their more recent jobs.

"You don't have to tell me the specifics," he adds to pacify them. "I know how the government can get when it comes to confidentiality."

"One of the Port Mafia executives wanted us to investigate the death of Mori Ougai. Apparently, he thought there was foul play involved."

Kunikida can't help himself. He chokes on his food and as his eyes start to water from the sting, he notices he captures the attention of the detective.

"O-oh, really?" He questions weakly. "I thought the Agency and the Mafia were at odds with each other."

"We are. We merely had a truce that would end when we finished the investigation." Yosano answers. "Of course, seeing that we have Ranpo over here, the investigation took as long as my autopsy. We found nothing out of the ordinary."

Kunikida says nothing as he raises his chopsticks back to his lips, a contemplative look on his face. At his left, Ranpo looks only at him.

"I see…"

"Something on your mind, Kunikida? A few days ago, you looked like you had been chased by a ghost." Ranpo's eyes are bright, intentions no longer as benign as he usually appeared.

But Kunikida does not falter.

He can't afford to.

This is a normal. This is a normal dinner. This is a normal dinner.

A dinner with friends is an ideal concept that Kunikida agrees with.

This is ideal and Kunikida will not mess this up.

Decisively, Kunikida smiles at the detective and says, "Stress can do many terrible things to a person. I've heard of chronic headaches, back pain, and well...Yosano would probably know more about these medical afflictions."

"I see. Tell me, have you figured out your philosophical dilemma?"

This time, Kunikida's smile is genuine and not as forced.

"Yes, I have. Murder is murder, good intentions or not."

Ranpo nods more to himself before he gestures at his empty plate and asks for dessert.

The dinner is a success.


	40. Chapter 40

Thirty-nine seconds…

Thirty-eight seconds…

Thirty-seven seconds…

The blond math teacher sighs as he glances at his watch. He's going to be late going home, but the thought doesn't rankle him as it usually should. Instead, he merely thinks more positively and hastens his stride to his apartment. As he does so, he doesn't notice a young man hurriedly moving in his direction, a ponderous expression on his face.

Within a few seconds, the two males crash into one another.

Books fly, Kunikida's glasses are thrown askew.

The moment is just that—a mere moment.

The two stumble over each other with mutters of apologies and they blindly give each other's belongings in record timing.

As Kunikida glances up, he sees that the teenager has come across wears the uniform from another school, Daikoku Private Academy. Ah, Kunikida thinks to himself. Unknowingly, his face softens as he observes this young man bow deeply to him before rushing off in a different direction.

The Daikoku Private Academy is a good school with stellar students. Apparently, most of those students there ranked consistently as the highest in the nation. There was even an article about that school, one Yagami Light had consistently ranked as the nation's best…

The blond happens to glance at his watch before silently cursing at himself to get a move on.

He has wasted enough time already.

Time can never be reset.

But that's okay.

He will always move forward in accordance to his ideals.


End file.
